


tracking mud.

by Pitseleh



Category: Doctrine of Labyrinths - Sarah Monette
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Backstory, Blood, Gen, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 16:30:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pitseleh/pseuds/Pitseleh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I ain't in a pack, so it ain't like there's turf or nothing like that. Turf can change, and it's all about fighting. What Keeper got is property, which means she bought it. Keeper owns all the shit right around where Ptolemy Road crosses with Iago. Which means she got the bar-- a real nice, proper place I ain't allowed to go in the front of-- and she got the kinhouse where all her kids sleep, and she got the workhouse where the kids who're sick chill and sew the initials outta handkerchiefs while they get better and all that, and a couple of other places besides. Me, I'm really lucky, because my Keeper's right and established, she got a real regular business and only picks up kids like me to keep us off the street and from real bad keepers who beat kids more than they need it.</p><p>Of course, when I say that to Nikah, his eyes just about roll outta his damn head. "Y'know that ain't true," he says. But then he can never explain why, so I figure he's just jealous. He been talking about leaving for ages, but he always chickens out the night before.</p><p>--What if Methony had made a different choice?</p>
            </blockquote>





	tracking mud.

So, here's the lay. There's this guy on Rue Street, right, and he ain't got no friends to spit on. Now, that ain't the worst thing that could be, except, he got plenty of folk ain't like him none, neither. And them folk got deep pockets and a lot of spite. Me, I dunno what this fucker did, but it's enough for someone to wanna get the job done real professional like. So they called me in, all regular.

What happened was, I was sitting pretty with Nikah yond over'n Harley Street, on that awning kids like to use to spit on fancy gents. They figure, and I do too, it's the least we can do to return the favor. Anyway, me and Nikah and Iulia got this caper going, it ain't nothing special, but we'll lower a rope down, a real thin one that's hard to see, right? And we'll use it to hook them nice fancy stovepipe hats that upstairs loves so damn much this season, and then sell 'em on the road to Carnelian. I think it's damn clever, though Iulia ain't so sure, and Keeper weren't too impressed. But she didn't tell us to stop, and ever since she been training me for knocking people off, it weren't like I got nothing better to do. 

So I was fishing for hats, as Nikah calls it, when Lula showed up to say Keeper wanted me. And lemme tell you, when Keeper says she wants to talk to you, you get off your ass and you go and you talk to Keeper.

I ain't in a pack, so it ain't like there's turf or nothing like that. Turf can change, and it's all about fighting. What Keeper got is _property_ , which means she bought it. Keeper owns all the shit right around where Ptolemy Road crosses with Iago. Which means she got the bar-- a real nice, proper place I ain't allowed to go in the front of-- and she got the kinhouse where all her kids sleep, and she got the workhouse where the kids who're sick chill and sew the initials outta handkerchiefs while they get better and all that, and a couple of other places besides. Me, I'm really lucky, because my Keeper's right and established, she got a real regular business and only picks up kids like me to keep us off the street and from real bad keepers who beat kids more than they need it.

Of course, when I say that to Nikah, his eyes just about roll outta his damn head. "Y'know that ain't _true_ , Lucky," he says. But then he can never explain why, so I figure he's just jealous. He been talking about leaving for ages, but he always chickens out the night before.

Anyway, so I went in the bar through the back way. It was kinda dark, on account of a storm probably rolling in, but I'd been trained to find my way even if I couldn't see nothing, so it wasn't hard. I don't use the stairs no more, I just shimmied down the pipe-ladder from the roof, and tapped on the window of the office below Keeper's. I tapped on her window, once, and, well, lemme tell you, I ain't doing that again. Dunloy, a kid who's a bit too old for sneaking no more and none too bright, let me in with a kinda a shrug, and I walked up the stairs.

I knocked real soft, just twice, on Keeper's door.

"Come in," she said, no fuss or nothing.

Keeper always dresses real fancy, like she's flash, and she lost her accent somehow, so she could probably pass for a real lady if she wanted to. I sat down in a hurry, so she didn't see me gawking. Last time I took too long a gander at her clothes, she called me a moll. I just think they're pretty.

"Ah, yes," she said, and sat down real fancy like. I bet if Keeper swam, the lake wouldn't make a single wave. "I did call for you, didn't I?"

"You did," I said. She sneered, probably at my accent. It's thicker than hers, 'cause, like I said, she got rid of it and I hadn't.

"You hopefully recall what I've been training you for?"

I nodded, 'cause I didn't want her snickering at my accent no more.

"Yes, I hope that hadn't escaped your notice entirely." Keeper always talks like I'm real thick. I mean, she does that with everyone, I ain't special. And I ain't real clever, neither, so I guess I'm just getting what's coming to me. Anyway, Keeper started talking again, so I tried to pay attention. "I think you've quite done with your training, don't you? I have your first assignment in this line of work." She held up a folded note, wax broke and all, which is a laugh and a half since she knows just as well as me I can't read worth a damn.

So I just nodded again.

"You haven't gone mute, I hope?"

Shit. "No, I haven't, Keeper. Just thought, since you're the cleverer half, I'd let you do the talking." 

She gave me a right smack on the head for that. "I hardly appreciate _sass_ ," she said, and I wondered if I'd meant it that way. She unfolded the note, and pretended to read over it again, like she hadn't got it memorized. "I'll need you to kill a man named Cephas L'Aquilla. Do you think you can manage that?"

"If'n you tell me where he lives," I said. I'd been training for this for months, I knew my shit cold, thank you very much. 

Keeper raised her hand like she was gonna wallop me again, so I kept my mouth shut. I gotta bad habit of always saying the worst shit at the worst time. 

"He lives off Collegno. You know that house with the Harpy statues on the front gates?"

I nodded.

"That's the one. His bedroom is on the third floor, beyond the window with-" she checked the letter, "with a yellow awning. You _do_ know what an awning is, don't you, Lucky?" She used the nickname that I fucking hated, to show how she didn't want me just nodding again.

"I do," I said.

"And he generally goes to bed early. All in all, an easy job; even _you_ can't mess it up." She paused. "If you're careful."

I wanted to show her that I could fucking well manage on my own pretty well, thank you very fucking much, so I just stood straight up and said, "yes'm, I can," like she ain't never took a crack at me being careful. She just raised her right eyebrow, like she'd seen right to the heart of what I was doing and she weren't impressed. 

We both heard a clap of thunder from outside, and the sound of rain starting.

"Well, it seems you always _do_ have the worst luck," she said, half-smiling. Another crack at that stupid nickname, I guess. I shrugged, like it weren't no thing, and began to walk off. She called behind me, in this kinda bored voice, "I want this done before the sun rises tomorrow morning. Make it look like a robbery," like she didn't care that I was breaking her rules and walking off without being dismissed,

So I guessed I got that to get on.

I went back to my room at the kinhouse and got my shit. I didn't tell nobody what I was up to, but nobody asked. We'd all learned a long damn time ago not to go poking around in each other's business. I grabbed some forte wire-- which is funny, because lemme tell you, this wire ain't never seen no pianoforte's in its life-- and I queued my hair back like a gent. Keeper likes me to keep it long, but I don't like when it gets in my face, fucking curly mess that it is.

Collegno is a flash street up in Breadoven, nice but not too nice, right on the edge of where upstairs becomes downstairs, if you get what I'm saying. Folks who live in Breadoven proper, they look at Collegno and say, well, shit, there goes the respectable neighborhood. I guess nobody ever told 'em the folks on Collegno look over at Pharaohlight next-door and say the same thing.

So it wasn't too hard getting there. I skipped through Candlewick Mews and Havelock and Dragonteeth, took the shortcut through Jezebell's Way in Pharaolight, and there I fucking was. I mean, I wasn't as fast as I'd've liked to've been, what with all that fucking rain, but I found it. Collegno's a short street, on account of the rest of Breadoven not wanting it to exist, so it only took me a septad minute to find the house with the harpies out front. It was a fucking mess, lemme tell you. I'm guessing somebody wanted this fucker's ass knocked off 'cause he hadn't paid a debt, by the looks of things. Some sharks you don't wanna fuck with, lemme tell you.

Anyway, it wasn't hard getting the door on the roof open. Even in Breadoven, the roofs have doors on 'em. Just how it is, in Melusine. 

'Course, usually there's a flash library or astronomy room in there, not servant's quarters. Which is to fucking say, I nearly stepped on a guy's head breaking in. I'll have you know I missed, but I was dripping wet, and that sure as fuck woke the bastard up, getting rained on.

Thank Kethe, the fucker didn't scream. He squeaked like a mouse, though, and put his hands over his face like I was gonna hit him. I ain't one to cast no _aspersions_ , as my friend Zephyr'd say, but I was betting this Cephas guy wasn't anyone real great to be around.

The guy I'd dripped on, more of a kid, really. I know, when you're going in to do a killing, you're supposed to off anyone who's in your way. And, later, when I was older, I'd start pulling that kinda shit. But this was my first job, and Kethe has a way of laughing at you about that kinda shit.

So I did the next best thing: I put my forte wire round his neck and gave a tug, but nothing that'd hurt him any permanent way. And then I stayed the fuck quiet, and waited for this poor fucking servant boy to talk.

It took him longer'n I'd been expecting, but I know how to wait. 

Finally, he said, "y-you a robber?"

"Yeah," I said, real gruff. It weren't a lie, so's to speak-- I done stole before. 

"Oh," the guy said, and then, "he keeps his flashie shit in the basement."

Shit, there might be hope for this kid yet.

"You gonna just go'n sell out your boss all easy?"

The kid was quiet for a minute, like he was thinking about it. I thought to myself, shit, maybe I might have to really kill him, but then he spoke up again, "he ain't so great," he said, sounding a bit raw about it, like he been let down. "I don't owe him nothing."

I thought about how this guy'd flinched when I'd woke him, like he was expecting somebody to hit him. "Fair 'nuff," I said. "You gonna peach on me?"

The kid took another minute to think on it, which made me trust 'em more. I don't like folks who don't think on shit first, means they're more likely to change their position, if'n you catch my meaning.

So finally, after chewing over it, the kid says, all meek as you please, "naw, I ain't."

So, real slow like, I let him go. He crawled away from me just as slow, and we sat there in the half-light, staring. The kid looked younger'n me, but not by much, just less than a septad. He had a real mousey hair, and the front of him was all pockmarked to hell, but he had a sweet little face to him besides that, all big eyes and a tiny mouth. He'd probably have a good smile, if'n I ever got to see it.

He was probably giving me the same once-over. I'm tall, I know, and I got funny eyes, but at least my hair wasn't a fucking fire alarm. 

"What's your name?" The kid said, all quiet.

"I'm a fucking thief," I said back, trying not to sound too annoyed. But, I mean, it was _true_. "I can't tell you my name."

"Oh, yeah," he said, sort of quiet. "I'm kinda flat, I guess..."

But, I mean, if you're smart enough to call yourself flat, you're not really _that_ flat, y'know? But I didn't say that. I just said, "how do I get to his bedroom from here?"

"There ain't nothing worth selling, in there," the kid said.

Shit. "I ain't here for any old shit," I said, thinking fast, "I been sent to get something special from his room."

The kid's face went kinda blank. "Oh, you mean his ruby he got?"

"Yeah," I said.

"He ain't got no ruby." 

Not so flat after all. But I didn't have any clever answer for that. "You want me to fucking kill you?" I said, kinda snapping at him, and he flinched. Probably more from the sound of my voice, which weren't pretty, than what I'd actually said. He put his hands up over his face, and I could see his arms proper now that his shirtsleeves'd fallen down-- the shirt he was wearing was too fucking small for him, he'd obviously grown out of it indictions ago-- and he had bruises bad all up to his elbow. _Fuck_ this Cephas guy.

So, if'n I said I felt like shit for scaring the poor bastard, that wouldn't be the half of it. I said, real quiet like, "m'names Gilroi." Which was a lie; Gilroi's a character from a story Nikah likes to tell. He's got fox-red hair, so I like him well enough. I figured that was as good a name as any. Sure as hell's better'n _Lucky_.

And the kid said, real slow, "'denio Richey."

"Denio?" What a fucking name.

" _Car_ denio." He said, and then cringed again. Kethe, did I feel like shit.

"Okay, Cardenio," I said. "You gonna peach on me?"

Cardenio sighed. "I ain't. I fucking hate the bastard. Whatever the hell you're gonna do, he probably deserves it."

"He beats his servants?"

"Uh..." Cardenio frowned. "Yeah, he do."

"Fucker," I said, and he nodded.

"Uh, anyway-... his room's down the hall, take a left from the front stairs, and then go right, and it's the second door."

I just stared at him like lightning'd struck me. Which made him keep talking, which I guess meant he'd never been kept.

"You shouldn't be bothered, there's no other servants but me. He can't afford 'em none no more."

I wanted to just keep gawping, because this kid obviously wasn't as flat as he seemed-- I had forte wire, he _must_ 've known what I was gonna do. But I also knew how short good luck lasts, so I just nodded and said my thanks, and slipped down the ladder like them eels they got in Scafflegreen. Then, there was the front stairs, and I knew my fucking business.

You might think, since I been running my mouth off so damn much about every little thing, that I'm gonna jabber detail about the killing. I'm here to tell you, I ain't. It was bad. Not easy like the ragdolls and cats Keeper had me training up on. I fucked up, and Cephas heard me and woke up, and I had to kick him down and sit on him and watch his face as I strangled the life outta him, as the wire cut into his stupid fat throat. After it was done, I stood up, and looked around, and there was a portrait of what must've been his family, him and a lady and three little kids in them little dresses flashie kids wear who haven't hit their first septad yet.

I don't wanna talk about that.

When I climbed back up the ladder, I had blood on me. Cardenio looked kinda terrified. I mean, I would be too, if I was like them. He wasn't a total flat, but he'd never been in a pack, and he'd never been kept. He had a second name, which meant he was probably the great-grand-sneeze of some way-dead landed gent. Maybe his family'd had it rough. Who the fuck knows. I didn't wanna talk about it, I just wanted to give him his digs and get gone.

So I handed him the bag of pretty trinkets I'd found in the basement, just like Cardenio'd said. He just looked at 'em like they was a septad different kinds of fucked up.

"Like you said," I said, hoping I hadn't judged this all wrong. If he squealed now, I'd be fucked. "In the basement."

He looked at he, eyes huge. "You killed him."

"You can't fucking be surprised."

"I..." He took a minute. "I thought you might. I- I just-"

"You thought you wouldn't have to see none of it."

"That's not-" he shook his head. "Nevermind. Why're you giving me this?"

I came proper up the ladder, and sat down. "I gotta make it look like a robbery. And you probably wanna hightail it outta here, don't you? 'Specially now that the dogs're gonna be on this place tomorrow, what with there a dead body and a broken window out front."

"You broke the window?"

"Gotta make it look like a robbery." I handed him the sack full'a goods again. "I figure, with this, that'll make up for you loosing a job, right?"

He looked at the sack, and said, mostly to himself, "I could buy an apprenticeship, with this..."

"Yeah," I said, shrugging. I guess he could. Better'n going to the packs, at least.

"Don't you need this? 

"Nah," I said. "I get paid for the killing." Or, Keeper did, but since she fed me, I guess it evened out.

He looked at it long and hard, and then decided to take it. Not so flat, after all. "Thanks," he said. "'ll I see you again?" He was blushing, just a bit. 

"I fucking hope not," I said. He looked kinda upset, so I tried to distract him. "You better not tell the dogs, y'hear? They'll snatch you too, seeing as you helped me."

He nodded, real slow. "You leave first," he said, and unlocked the roof door. The rain came in almost immediately, and wow was I not looking forward to going back into that again. Still, it was a good plan. I started getting ready to go, and Cardenio said, "g'bye, Gilroi."

I hesitated just a second too late, and I could fucking tell he knew it was a fake name. I dunno why that bothered me so much, seeing as I'd just killed a guy, and he'd helped me, but it did.

But then I was out in the rain and running back toward Britomart, and none of that mattered. I don't remember the walk back-- or, the run, I guess-- except it was cold and it was wet and I was miserable. When I got in, I was fucking soaked, and muddy to boot. Alls I wanted was a nice cup of cocoa and a warm fire to sit in front of, so I knocked on the window below Keeper's offices, and some other goon of hers let me in, and I walked up and saw her waiting for me. I was expecting a hello, or how are you, or any of that shit, but this was Keeper, you know? I could even tell she was kinda pissed, 'cause she used my real name, not my nickname. She said, real bored like: "You know what I've said about trailing mud indoors, Felix."

**Author's Note:**

> I've had a vague idea for an AU for ages, a sort of what if. What if Methony had sold Mildmay to Felix's Keeper, and vice versa? I'm not sure how all of it would work out, but here's a vague attempt.


End file.
